


Approaching Dissolution

by MyLittleCornerOfSherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Heavy Angst, Letters, Minor Character Death, Post-Reichenbach, pre reunion, widower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLittleCornerOfSherlock/pseuds/MyLittleCornerOfSherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of letters John writes to Mary and leaves them on her grave.  In them he says things to her he can't to anyone else, and asks her to look after Sherlock for him.  Set post-Reichenbach.  Please read the tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. March- Please Understand Why You're Here

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to wearitcounts who beta-read and gave me wonderful feedback. Thanks to KrisKenshin for doc sitting and crying with me, to let me know I was doing a good job with this fic.

_*tear stained and full of mistakes, this letter was written the first week after Mary’s death*_

 

Dear Mary,

I’ve talked to a headstone too many times.  I’m sorry but I can’t do it anymore.  I hope you don’t mind these letters instead.

You were always so kind and understanding.  I’m certain you ~~would~~ understand.  But I feel still feel like I need to explain why I chose this place for you.  Next to him.

You and he were the two most important people in my life. It’s quiet here, peaceful.  You deserve that.   ~~Although, it probably drives him mad.~~ This is a special place for me and I can visit you both without being disturbed. Mycroft made sure no one would be able to bother him here.  He was “gracious” enough (the bastard) to give me this peace of mind for you.  Neither you nor Sherlock deserve to be alone when I’m not here.  I’ll try to visit when I can, but as special as this place is, it’s a hard place for me to come often.  Please forgive me if you don’t approve of my choice.

                                                                        Love always,

                                                                                 Your John


	2. April- Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The firsts are always the hardest.

Dear Mary,

They say the “firsts” are the hardest: first birthday, anniversaries, holidays.  Of course that’s true, this isn’t the first time I’ve gone through this, but I didn’t think I’d have to again so soon.  And...last time…you had just come into my life. You helped me through some of those firsts.  You were such a good friend.  We didn’t know then what we’d become, did we?  Now…I don’t have anyone.  I mean, Greg tries, but he’s never lost anyone he’s been so close to, let alone two people.  Mrs. Hudson tries but she…well she always thought that Sherlock and I…and had a hard time accepting you. But she tried!  You know she did.  Anyways, I’m planting a rose bush for you, yellow ones, your favourite.  I forget what they stand for.  You told me, but I can’t remember.  I just remember how much you loved them.  I just hope they’ll bloom for you.  I never really had a green thumb, but I’ll try.

Happy Birthday, my lovely wife.  I wish we had been able to have more together.  I miss you.  Tell Sherlock hello for me.

                                                                       Love Always,

                                                                                   Your John


	3. May- Happy Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do me a favor…call him an idiot for me. He’ll appreciate it.

Dear Mary,

Another first, and it would have been our real first anniversary, if it wasn’t for the accident. You were so brave, pushing that little boy out of the way of that car. They said you knew it was bad, but when they got to you, you asked about him first.

That was always your way, thinking of others and putting them first. That’s why you were such a great teacher. You loved your kids so much. You would have made a great mother.

I finally looked at the autopsy reports today. I don’t know if it was a gift or not. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? Did you know? I never found a test, so maybe you didn’t know. It was still early.

My brave, thoughtless Mary. I don’t blame you or the little boy. But why did this have to happen? _*tear stains*_ One boy saved, but I lost you and our child that day. I’ll bet if Sherlock had been alive he would have known you were pregnant. He would have told you in his sharp tongued way. Would you still have risked your life, if you had known you were carrying one?

I’m sorry! Forgive me! I’m just angry and lost without you. The weather is nice, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I know you hate it when I jump topics. I…I just don’t want to dwell. I can’t think about any of that right now. Please don’t hold my words against me.

So…the weather…It’s actually nice for this time of year. The flowers are all starting to bloom early. Except your roses. I told you I didn’t have a green thumb. At least the plant is alive. If I can’t keep anyone or anything else alive, at least I can try and keep this bush going.

I miss you. It seems like I miss you more and more each day. I wasn’t done grieving my best friend yet, and now it’s doubled. Do me a favor…call him an idiot for me. He’ll appreciate it.

                                                                               Love Always,  
                                                                                       Your John


	4. June- When He Fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please hug Sherlock for me. He won’t understand why, but it’ll make me feel better to know there’s someone there looking out for him.

Dear Mary,

You know what today is.  You got me through the anniversaries of the first two.  This year, it’s so much harder.  No one has called to check on me.  I guess they all thought I’d be over it by now, especially after losing you.  Maybe they don’t want to remind me.  I don’t know.  I don’t feel like reaching out to anyone.  You were the only one who understood.  You were the only one I let see me cry.  Molly wouldn’t look me in the eye afterwards.  I told you, I think she blames me for what happened.  I know you always said it wasn’t my fault, but I can’t help but still feel like I should have known, I should have done more.  Mrs. Hudson, she used to try and talk to me, but she stopped.  She couldn’t possibly understand how it feels, and I think she realized that, finally.  Greg feels guilty about it still and won’t talk to me.  And Mycroft is a cold bastard.  He texted me this year, oddly enough.

“Don’t be an idiot. -MH”

Can you believe that arsehole?  He’s the idiot.  Thinking I could just get over something like this.  Losing Sherlock, finding you, losing you and our child, all in less than three years!  I can’t get over any of it! I am not an idiot! Christ!

Mary, why?!  I ask it every year, but now it has more meaning.  WHY?  Why did he have to jump?  Why couldn’t he see that there were other options?  Why didn’t he believe me?  Why wasn’t I enough?  And now...more whys.  Why did you die?  Why did we meet and fall in love only for me to lose you so soon?  Why did you have to be the one to push that little boy out of the way?  Why couldn’t it have been someone else?  Anyone else?

Now, I’m left alone, so alone again.

Please hug Sherlock for me.  He won’t understand why, but it’ll make me feel better to know there’s someone there looking out for him.

                                                                                                                             Love Always,

                                                                                                                                    Your John


	5. July- I Miss You So Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ask, ask...Sherlock to hug you for me, please. I...I’d like to think he would, if it was for me. You deserve some comfort after a letter like this.

Dear Mary,

We would have been on holiday right now. We’d been talking about it. You wanted to go to the States and visit some of the more famous landmarks. I wanted to just go to the coast and relax. I swear, if you were still here, we would have gone to the States.

It makes me smile and cry at the same time now. I picture you pregnant and touring places like New York City and Washington D.C. You with a camera, taking pictures, and talking to the baby. I know you would have been telling him or her about what you were seeing.

Maybe you would have changed your mind and not travelled so far because you were pregnant. You’d be about six months along now. We could have gone anywhere you wanted.

I wish you could be here. I miss you so much. I wish there was a way to ease the pain. I’ve thought about what would help. I promise you, I’m not drinking. I wouldn’t do that. It’s not a solution. But, damn, drinking myself into oblivion sounds so good right now.

I need to forget. I need to sleep without the memories or nightmares. Yes, they’re back. Without you to keep them at bay or help calm me, they’ve returned with a vengeance. But they’ve changed. Sometimes it’s you on that ledge. Sometimes it’s a baby. Sometimes Sherlock tries to catch you or the baby, but fails. And then he turns and looks at me so sadly. He opens his mouth to speak, and there’s a gunshot. Thank God I wake up before I see the wound. Because I know this time it’s him getting shot, not me.

Dammit this hurts. I miss you so much. You kept the demons at bay. People tell me to get out, make new friends, try to get close to someone else. I could punch them when they say that. I swear I must be jinxed. Everyone I care about dies, violently. Even your rosebush is struggling. I’d have made a terrible father. I can’t even seem to keep a plant alive.

Ask, ask...Sherlock to hug you for me, please. I...I’d like to think he would, if it was for me. You deserve some comfort after a letter like this.

                                                                                                               Love Always,  
                                                                                                                        Your John


	6. August- Why Do Bad Things Happen To Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe you and Sherlock should forget about me. You’re better off without me.

Dear Mary,

I have a pitiful question for you.  Why do bad things happen to me?  First I was shot in Afghanistan, then Sherlock, then you and the baby, now Harry.  She drank herself to death.  Her liver gave out.  She’s gone.  And no one told me.  I found out from the papers.

Clara was kind enough to cover her burial costs and found a nice plot for her.  I missed the funeral.  I found out too late. I did stop by to pay my respects, but I won’t be writing her any letters.  She probably doesn’t want anything to do with me.

I’m a horrible big brother.  I’m worthless.  I’m definitely not the man you married anymore.  I’m weak.  I’m pitiful.  I don’t deserve to have anything good in this life.  

Even the rose bush hates me.  The thorns got me the last time I left a letter and the cut got infected.  Some doctor I turned out to be.  I can’t even take care of myself.  Maybe you and Sherlock should forget about me.  You’re better off without me.

  
                                                                                                                                    John


	7. September- This Is So Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentiment, Sherlock would have laughed at me for it. Punch him for me if he is.

Dear Mary,

This is so hard.  It’s getting worse.  But I don’t see it getting better.  Ever.  Every day it’s harder for me to get out of bed, or take a shower.  Even making tea or eating is a chore.  I’m just going through the motions of living.

My job is suffering, I’ve withdrawn from everyone.  I don’t respond to texts anymore.  I usually don’t even read them.  You’d be furious at me, but I can’t help it.  I just keep thinking about you, our baby, and Sherlock.

People don’t understand the last two.  We didn’t even know you were pregnant, but that doesn’t matter.   The baby is just as real to me as if we did know.  Next month the baby would have probably been born.  Our baby.

I can’t help but wonder all of the “what ifs” and “what could have beens”.  Was the baby a boy or a girl?  Some days, in my mind, it was a boy.  We would have named him Sherlock.  Other’s it’s a girl and her name would have been, Emily, after your favorite author and poet.  

Sentiment, Sherlock would have laughed at me for it.  Punch him for me if he is.

  
                                                                                                   John


	8. October- I'll Be Brief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short letter that says so much.

Dear Mary,

I’ll be brief. Maybe I should join the two of you. There’s room for one more between your two plots. And the rose bush might grow better without me.

                                                                                 John


	9. November- I'm Losing My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously...punch him hard for me. I don’t need this kind of hope if it’s not for real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where we start to rise from the angst. Thank you for bearing with me through all of this.

Dear Mary,

I’m sorry if my last letter scared you.  I scared myself.  I’d hit bottom and I didn’t see any other way out.  I’m so sorry I thought that way.  I took the long way home that afternoon, taking in everything for what I thought would be the last time. I’d fully intended to use my gun that evening.   But the strangest thing happened when I got back to the flat.

There was a letter waiting for me.  I could have sworn I’d picked up the mail before I left, but there it was, plain as day, waiting for me on the floor.  And...I swear, I must be losing my mind...it said:

“I don’t have friends, I’ve just got one.  Please take care of my friend.”

There wasn’t any signature, but only you and one other person know what was said during that particular conversation.  I’d only ever told you about it. That letter stopped me in my tracks.  I couldn’t bring myself to use my gun.  Because, maybe, just maybe...

But that letter wasn’t the only one!  There have been others!  One a week since that day.  At first I thought it must have been Mycroft sending them, but they’re all filled with things only Sherlock could have known about.  I mean unless Mycroft was spying on us everywhere.  But he couldn’t have been.  Not at the Inn near Baskerville.  He couldn’t have known about that conversation next to the fireside where Sherlock paraphrased Spock and deduced the mother and son.  Mycroft couldn’t have had cameras there, could he?

Then there was the one telling me not to make use of the “special” ashtray because smoking is bad for my health, and to try three nicotine patches instead.  “It’s a three patch problem after all” the letter said.

This week...this week, “not all men are machines” followed by “machines are not men, so don’t take your frustrations out on a pin machine.”  I never told you or anyone about that time.  Not one other soul knew.

Mary, do you think it could be him?  Is it him?  You’d know, if I was losing my mind or not.  Seriously...punch him hard for me.  I don’t need this kind of hope if it’s not for real.

  
                                                                                                                                                 John


	10. December- He's Back!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing that could make it better would be if you could pull off his magic trick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *a rambling letter of jumbled thoughts*

Dear Mary,

Happy Christmas!  And indeed it is a happier one than I’d expected to have this year.  The only thing that could make it better would be if you could pull off his magic trick.  But I know that’s not possible and I’m getting ahead of myself.

He’s back!  Sherlock is back!  I mean, hell yeah, I’m fucking pissed at him.  He lied to me, he killed himself in front of me, he made me suffer.  He hid from me.  He made people lie to me..BUT!  He’s alive!  People don’t just come back from the dead.

I’m not sure what to do now though, Mary.  Do I forgive him?  You’d know what to do.  You’d say yes, but make him answer for what he put me through.  But, you’d also tell me not to hold it against him.  

He always had a reason, I know that.  I told you that was his way.  And he did.  He had good reasons.  There were snipers assigned to me, Greg, and Mrs. Hudson.  We would have died if he hadn’t jumped that day.

But why couldn’t he have told me later you ask?  I asked him that.  He looked away, and I swear, he had tears in his eyes before he answered me.  Can you believe that? I’m still not sure if I can forgive him or not.  

OH!  His answer!  There were other dangerous people employed by Moriarty and he had to take them out first.  If I had known, they would have killed me and he couldn’t risk that.

I don’t know what to do, Mary.  I’m so confused.  My emotions are all over the place.  I’m so happy he’s alive and at the same time I’m beyond pissed because of what he put me through.  But if he hadn’t we never would have met.  Do I thank him for that or kill him?  Mary...he wants me to move back in with him, into 221B.   Do I move back in?  Do I forgive him?  I want to...but what if he’s changed?  What if he hasn’t?

                                                                             Always,

                                                                                   John


	11. January- I Must Be Insane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary, these feelings, they scare me. Because they feel a lot like what you and I had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up. I will be posting two chapters tomorrow, February and the Epilogue.

Dear Mary,

I must be insane for letting him back in my life, but, then again, so is he.  I still haven’t moved back in with him, but we are back up to our old tricks.  I can’t quite bring myself to leave our old flat.  I thought he’d push the issue or ridicule me for my “sentiment”, but he hasn’t.   Every now and then, he’ll mention the “extra bedroom in 221B” and each time I say, “Not yet, maybe not ever, I don’t know”.  It hurts him, I know, I can tell.  But, I don’t know yet.  

Mary, it’s true, though.  He’s changed, but...he’s still the same.  It’s so hard to explain.  He’s more...human.  Not that he wasn’t human before, but he lets himself feel. He seems older, more world-weary.  He understands emotions better.  Sentiment is no longer a dirty word. He says it’s because of me that he knows what sentiment is.  I’m not sure what to think about that.  

He looks at me differently than before.  That is, when we’re not out chasing after the bad guys (I promise you I’m safe, he wouldn’t let anything happen to me).  He looks at me like a man drowning, like I’m his safe harbor.  He looks at me like you used to. A small smile playing at his lips, like he’s happy just to be around me.  Or at least, that’s what you used to tell me it was when you looked like that.  He touches me. A lot.  Small, simple touches just to reassure me or to reassure himself.  I’m not sure which some days.

Mary...I find myself looking and touching him in the same ways.  It scares me.  I don’t want to get close to him again, just to lose him. Our lives (his and mine) were never safe ones, nor are they now.  I mean, they aren’t normal, safe lives.  Mary, these feelings, they scare me.  Because they feel a lot like what you and I had.  And, what if...what if, I felt them before you?  What if my feelings for you were my feelings for him? Could that be?  Could you forgive me?  I know I loved you.  I don’t doubt that.  I still do.  Mary, I’m scared of what this could be.

  
                                                                         John


	12. February- Please Don't Hate Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please say we have your blessing. Please give me a sign.

Dear Mary,

How do I say this?  You always were upfront with me, so I’ll do the same...

Please don’t hate me, but I think I love him.  I think I always did.  But that doesn’t mean I never loved you.  I don’t think I could ever love him the way I loved you!  Beautiful, brave, tender, thoughtless, selfless, Mary.  My Mary. Our child.  Our love.  Those things were and are so special to me.

But so is he, and miracle of miracles, he doesn’t want me to, won’t let me forget you and what we had. I think you and he would have liked each other.  But I don’t think you could have if I was around.  Does that make sense?  I don’t know though.

He asks me often if I’ve written you, and scolds me when I tell him I haven’t yet.  He is sitting opposite me now, making sure I keep my promises.  So maybe, just maybe, you two would have been friends.

But I can’t deny my emotions anymore.  I do think I am in love with him and that I always have been.  I don’t want you to hate me for it though. Please say we have your blessing.  Please give me a sign.

 

                                                                             With love,

                                                                                     John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates today, so be sure to look for the next chapter.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year to the day since Mary's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed it, there were two updates today. Please make sure to read chapter 12 before you read the epilogue.

It had been one year to the day since Mary’s death.  Sherlock accompanied John as far as the path in the cemetery, wanting to support the man he loved, but also knowing that John needed privacy.  He watched as John approached Mary’s grave, the headstone obscured by the other monuments in the cemetery.  He’d be there for John when he was ready.

John walked slowly, clutching the current month’s letter in the pocket of his jacket.  There was still a crisp chill in the air, it being late March.  He was grateful that Sherlock understood his need to do this alone this year.  This was a first he couldn’t share with Sherlock just yet.  He stood at the grave getting ready to leave his note.  His eyes were brimming with tears and he almost missed it.  He had to brush them away and then he stared at what he saw.

“Sherlock!”  He shouted, disturbing the quiet stillness, and sank to his knees.  Sherlock ran to him, leaping over headstones, unsure of what could cause the shock in John’s voice.  Sherlock knelt down next to him, taking John’s face in his hands.  Sherlock wiped the tears away, but noticed the smile on John’s face.

“Look Sherlock,” John half-laughed, half-sobbed and pointed at Mary’s rose bush.  There, in the middle of the cold, grey graveyard, there was a bright yellow beautiful rose.  The sole beacon of color, like a sunbeam shone out from the bush that John was sure had died.  Sherlock remembered John had told him what he’d written the previous month.

“It looks like we have her blessing,” Sherlock said softly as he kissed John’s forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Roses don’t bloom until June in England. Yellow roses mean Joy, Gladness, Friendship, Delight, Promise of a new beginning, Welcome Back, Remember Me. I felt that yellow roses encompassed so much of both what Mary and Sherlock mean to John.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos and kind words. Your support in this has meant a lot to me. I am honestly sad that this is the end for this piece. I loved it from the inception of the idea all the way through until now. I hope you have enjoyed the ride as much as I have. ~Jenn


	14. Epilogue Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art for the final scene of Approaching Dissolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned this piece from willietheplaidjacket on tumblr. She did a fantastic job and it is just how I pictured it in my head, right down to the tear in Sherlock's eye and peaceful smile on John's face.


End file.
